Beginnings
by Tyna
Summary: Elseworlds story - Set in the eighteenth century, in a world where vampires, were-animals, and mutantcy was thought to be a form of magic, Jubilee finds herself running from one monster into the arms of another. But is he truly the monster people say he


Beginnings: Part One  
  
DISCLAIMER: Marvel owns all the characters. No money is involved (story of my life).   
  
FEEDBACK: Please send feedback of any kind (praise, flaming, constructive criticism, etc.) to naiya@mauimail.com  
  
NOTES: This is a revision of an earlier post. Phrases bordered by * are thoughts. Several sections were written by different authors but unfortunately, I regret not keeping their names, so if you see a section and it looks like something you've read elsewhere, that is the reason. Any questions see feedback for my email address and I'll answer as best as I can. Archive at will  
  
****  
Pain, he seemed to be made of pain. Burning hot liquid streamed out of his pores and flowed over his naked body. His body hair thickened under the slime and took on the appearance of fur. All of a sudden his senses became too acute overwhelming his brain. Roaring, he struggled to his feet, shook most of the liquid off and slowly made his way to the kitchen.  
  
Three steps away from the door he collapsed again. His bones shifted and broke of their own accord. Creed opened his mouth to scream but there was too much pain. His nerves had reached the point of over-saturation and he seemed to burst out of his skin. More fur flowed over his chest and his arms bent backwards.  
  
"STOP!" he bellowed. His body obeyed in halting spurts. He crawled towards the wall, used it to rise to his feet and found himself face to face with a mirror. Although he reverted back to a form that resembled a human; the fur didn't recede, his nails were now deadly claws, and an irresistible urge to take a female for a mate sent him farther down the animal path.   
  
Fighting for control he shrugged into his robe and stumbled into the kitchen. Each attempt at grabbing a flask of wine ended with him crushing the slender necks. His strength had tripled due to the change and with each passing moment his anger grew. Oddly, the anger helped him focus enough to handle the last flask with care. He downed the contents in a single drought becoming instantly drunk. The wine was extremely aged something meant to be given only a thimbleful at a time.  
  
Increasingly violent, Creed shambled through his home overshadowed by lust and pain. He barely registered the open kitchen door and the figure that was staring dumbfounded at him. Its scent slammed into him like a blacksmith's sledgehammer. She was young and familiar. He knew this person. "Jubilee," he rumbled.  
  
A flash of pure lust drove away the pain and brought him across the kitchen in a storm of tangible anger that radiating from his pitch- black eyes. By the time he had yanked Jubilee away from the doorway he was almost blinded by the burn of desire. He felt his claws pierce her soft milky white flesh and heard her frightened scream. The smells of fear and blood fueled the flame yet a small voice in his head whispered this isn't right. His beast snarled back, quickly silencing that annoying whine. Licking his lips he watched the blood pool and run down her arm.  
  
Jubilee bit back another scream and tore out of his grasp while he struggled with himself. However distracted he was Victor Creed was able block her way of escape. No matter how hard she pushed against his chest, Jubilee couldn't break the steel grip he had around her waist as he carried her towards his chambers. Desperate she lashed out at his face digging deep enough to draw blood. It didn't phase him.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" she cried and continued to struggle unable to understand how her world could just shatter so completely.  
  
Victor Creed had never touched her before; no man had. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when she left this morning for the market in the next town. It was a full moon tonight and they usually celebrated it with a feast. He usually awaited her return seated at the main table with his boot-clad feet resting on her chair, dressed in all white. Now his white clothes lay in ruin crumpled in the corner, replaced by his favorite red velvet robe. Bottles and broken glass littered the floor; some of them half full with liquor.   
  
As they passed through the living room Jubilee renewed her efforts for escape when he shifted her onto his shoulder. He bent down so suddenly she reflexively grabbed onto his fur. The muscles in his shoulder bunched and he lifted their solid, unbelievably heavy table, one handed, off the ground. Bellowing loudly, he threw it into the kitchen and proceeded onwards.  
  
Terrified, Jubilee watched the table that normally took four very large men to move, fracture the floor before shattering as if it were made of matches. With the way clear, Creed marched determined into his bedchambers and threw her onto the four post king-size bed.  
  
"Let me go and get a healer for you please m'lord!" she pleaded but her words fell on deaf ears. He took it the wrong way.  
  
"You cannot leave me! I am your life. You were nothing when I found you, less than nothing, an unkempt wild child. I civilized you, taught you proper manners and educated your filthy mouth to a more gentile language. I am your lord and master and I will take my pleasures with or without your consent. You will submit to your new lessons... NOW!" he bellowed and drew his prized sword out of the sheath that hung on one of the posts.  
  
Before Jubilee could make a break for it, he captured her in an unbreakable embrace, all but bruising her lips as he drunk deeply from her mouth. In deft moves, his sword robbed her of bodice and shredded her skirts to mere strips. Sword still in hand, he forced her into the thick pile of pillows and turned her world red with pain.  
  
After the first few thrusts Jubilee shrunk into her mind, to separate herself from feeling. Deep within the recesses of her mind she saw a faint glow. The closer she came the brighter it burned. Soon the white light became blinding and grew until it was too large to contain. A faint wind rose up and ruffled the sheets. It raced around the bed in ever-tightening circles.  
  
Humanity reclaimed Creed but moments too late. Jubilee's eyes flared, white light cascading over her body. The light gathered over the backs of her hands that had locked onto the fur of his chest from gripping too hard too long. Words poured out of her mouth in a language he'd never heard before. Upon her last word, the light burrowed through her hands, without harming her, and seared into his chest. Creed reeled backwards fresh pain pulsed from the two perfect hand marks burned into his flesh.   
  
Any hope he had of maintaining his humanity shattered. His scream of agony ended in a drawn out keen. He didn't simply shift. More like he exploded out of his skin. In his place stood a half man half tiger that seemed to fill he room. Clear liquid drenched his golden fur and he was most definitely male.   
  
Jubilee came to herself also covered in the thick liquid. It hurt to move her lower body but she pushed the burning pain aside and quietly slipped off the bed. Tears streamed down bloodied cheeks as she tried to make herself as small as possible underneath the bed while he thrashed about the room. She heard Creed snarl before her hiding place was taken away.   
  
He threw the bed aside like it weighed nothing. It crashed into the set of strong oak chairs bordering the stone fireplace and caught fire. Jubilee took advantage of his momentary distraction and darted out of the room.   
  
By the time she reached the kitchen, Jubilee couldn't control the violent shivering caused by shock and fear. In her haste to dodge the next barrage of projectiles, portions of her tattered skirt caught on the broken edges of the overturned round-table Creed had destroyed earlier. Twisted metal bracers sliced into her thigh robbing her of balance. Countless splinters riddled the wound and drove deeper when she fell behind the table.   
  
Bottles crashed against her makeshift barrier. She also heard the unmistakable sound of a whip cracking. Creed was visible through a crack in the tabletop. Despite being drunk and obviously not himself, he wielded the whip with skill that did his reputation proud. With a flick of his wrist the whip obediently wrapped itself around the nearest table leg. Slowly Jubilee began to crawl backwards her mind racing; she needed more time to come up with some sort of recourse.   
  
The wind returned and suddenly she knew the words that would ensure her escape.   
  
Despite waves of nausea and pain Jubilee managed to get to her feet, arms outstretched for balance. Skeins of moonlight touched down to color the winds whipping around Jubilee as Creed removed the final barrier between them. On command, the skeins unraveled and bathed everything with their cool fire. Soon the entire cottage became consumed and she bolted out the door.  
  
The very forest seemed against her as small shrubs, low-hanging branches, and an uneven terrain became increasingly thick and difficult to overcome. Her frantically beating heart and ragged breath was all she heard but she knew Creed was not far behind. The fire would merely deter him shortly. Vision constantly blurred by sweat and tears, she continued to run blindly until something loomed ahead.   
  
She stopped long enough to catch her breath. Her path had taken her straight to the old castle. Dimly she remembered tales of how its owners met their demise. Slowly she backed away and froze.   
  
From a black hole at the base of one of the towers, a pair of iridescent eyes glared at her. A low growl that spat power washed over Jubilee. The world spun, blackness almost upon her. She caught a glimpse of a flowing cloak emerging from that same black hole just as consciousness deserted her.  
  
Jubilee dreamt. Scenes shifted, melded, then drifted away. A man stood with is back to her. He stared out across a small lake, blood-red cloak billowing around him. When the cloak was still she could make out his form. As if sensing her gaze he turned and the color of his eyes made Jubilee catch her breath. They were blue, the color of sapphires in water during a full moon. She fell hopelessly forward, falling but without fear. A voice whispered gently, Wake little one, wake. Her lids fluttered, reluctant to open.   
  
When the dream was nothing but a whisper, Jubilee woke in a soft warm bed tucked snugly into silk sheets. For a moment she stared at the high vaulted, stone ceiling, then out through the window. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass frame casting silver tinged colors about the room.   
  
With a final look about the room Jubilee sat up, but too quickly. Nausea crept up her throat; she became inelegantly sick, vomiting all over the silk sheets. She heaved herself right out of bed, too weak to prevent her fall. When her stomach had nothing left but bile Jubilee tried to crawl away from the bed but her right leg wouldn't work properly. It was heavily bandaged, spots of red just beginning to show where blood had soaked through.   
  
Frustrated, Jubilee cried softly. A soft scraping noise caught her attention. Someone was opening the door. She wanted desperately to hide; her injury made that impossible. Instead she grabbed what looked like house slippers. They weren't much but at least they could be thrown.   
  
A weak weapon was, better than nothing, she mused. With the faintest creek, the door completely swung open. Jubilee relaxed without knowing why. She was in a strange room with God knows who and she was relaxed.   
  
" Hello," she called softly. It came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat as best she could and tried again. "Hello, who goes there?"  
  
"Well, I see that you took no time in trying to get better," a man's voice said. It was deep, the kind of voice a lover used in bed with an undercurrent of some exotic language, nothing like she had ever heard before. "But you do seem to have made quite a mess. Don't fret, my servants shall be in shortly," he finished and stepped into sight.  
  
Jubilee simply stared, surely she wasn't still dreaming. The throbbing in her leg told her she wasn't but there he stood the man in her dream.   
  
He was short, only three inches taller by the look of him. His waist-length, straight black hair, so black it had blue highlights, was tied back by a simple gold cord. His black silk shirt was tucked into cream colored linen pants. Black leather boots climbed up to his thighs. They were laced up the back and looked terribly uncomfortable. A closer look found them to be supple suede.   
  
His eyes were that same liquid sapphire blue but they held no power, though that was probably part of the dream.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
  
"Pardon my rudeness," he replied with dignity, "I am Logan."   
  
Logan's eyes swept the young girl in front of him. She had been a complete mess when he'd found her. Most of her clothes had been in shreds. The scent of blood rose from her like sweet perfume but it was tainted heavily by Creed's scent. It gave him cause to be wary of her. Creed was well known in the assassins' circles but it was rumored that he'd turned his back on his chosen profession to raise a family. Apparently some of the rumors were true, but this girl was definitely not his get. *A protégé perhaps* Logan mused and became angry. Regardless of circumstance, Creed was out of line and something had to be done.   
  
While he was pondering on what to do, his servants arrived with fresh sheets and blankets and quickly cleaned and aired out the chamber.   
  
"You are obviously in pain, my dear. Lie down and Paige will tend to your wounds." Paige, a young blonde maid, stepped forward, and asked to see her wounds.   
  
Jubilee started, backing away. "Don't touch me!" she cried.  
  
The wall stopped her movement. She used it to get to her feet and attempted to get back on the bed. Another wave of nausea swept over Jubilee. Her legs seemed unable to hold her; she lurched forward. Paige caught her and eased her onto the bed.  
  
"Don't touch," she whispered and realized she had no choice. The girl wasn't really hurting her. Stop it, she chided herself and submitted to the expert care the girl was giving.  
  
Logan in the meantime turned around to allow his servant to dress the girl. He stood in the window and stared, gazing at the shadows the moon cast over his lands. Blood-scent hung heavy in the air. His stomach knotted with his barely contained hunger. He could have easily drained the girl dry, but as he ran his tongue along his fangs, he found himself thinking about sinking them into anything but her. His only inclination was to protect her, something he hadn't felt in at least two centuries.   
  
"Master?" Paige called quietly, unsure if she should disturb him. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen him so conflicted. From the dresser she retrieved an antique bottle and poured its dark contents into and equally old wineglass.   
  
"Set it on the table and leave us," he commanded dismissing her with a casual gesture. When the door bumped shut he turned his attention toward the bed.  
  
"Now child, what is your name?"  
  
Jubilee bristled, despite her pain and fatigue. Her small size caused everyone to call her that and she was tired of it. Anger spilled into her eyes and traveled down her back.   
  
Logan held up a hand before she could answer. "I meant no offense child, but to me, everyone is. I was centuries old before you were born. Come now, what is your name?"  
  
"Jubilee" she spat still hanging onto her anger.  
  
Logan raised his eyebrows, impressed by the girl's open challenge. His mouth twitched in barley contained amusement. She reminded him of the way a cat bristled when doused with cold water unexpectedly and unappreciatively.  
  
The girl--no, Jubilee continued to glower at him, clear blue eyes radiating her irritation. Logan winced inwardly as he met her eyes. They began to cloud over slightly with pain and fatigue.  
  
Logan approached the girl, pausing to pick the clear crystal glass of wine up. Its dark liquid contents swirled inside, the bittersweet, oddly metallic aroma wafted around him. He closed his eyes and briefly paused to reflect on how he'd have to thank a particular thief friend for his gift of the precious bottle of "wine".  
  
The girl edged back from him, small body pressed as far away against the many pillows that covered the bed as possible. She trembled slightly, that was true, but she still held her head up defiantly, outweighing her fear. Logan shed any doubts or regrets of having saved her. It would have been a crime to have such a willful and strong spirit break because of that fool.  
  
"Child, if I intended you harm, I would not have saved you nor would you be alive. I have kept my hunger in check even when your blood flowed so freely from your wounds." The girl's eyes widened, her fear flared and flooded the room. Instead of soothing her, he incited another bout of trembling.  
  
Logan sighed, caught her gaze and shed his mask. He put into his eyes a message as clear as the crystal glass he held. It said 'I won't hurt you, now or ever. You are safe with me'.  
  
Emotions warred with one another darkening her guileless blue eyes. They still held fear and hesitation. The urgency to get her to trust him increased ten-fold as he projected calm like he did when first entering her chamber.  
  
Something clicked behind her eyes, and slowly her angry shield crumpled, then ceased to exist. He was by her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her shaking body and she sobbed into his shoulders, her tears staining the silk shirt he wore but he paid it no heed.  
  
Stroking her hair, her back, and whispering consoling words into her ears, her tears slowed until only her sniffling was left.  
  
She fit his arms perfectly, melting against him and he could feel her body slump against his wearily, tired and exhausted from the night of horrors and a hell he knew she'd been through at the hands of Victor Creed. The man will pay, that Logan promised to himself.  
  
His heart didn't always beat, but something about Jubilee continued to stir up feelings he thought long dead. Silently, he lay her back in the folds of the pillows and glided back to the table and poured himself another glass of "wine". Yes the thief had given him a great gift, his blood. He twirled his favorite glass for a moment, then emptied its contents in long droughts. Hunger, abated he was able to think more clearly. He still had yet to ease her pain and called his power.   
  
It breathed through the room, rolling in like fog from the sea. Jubilee stared as his eyes bled to a solid glowing sapphire blue. The pain in her leg vanished so quickly it almost hurt. A tickling sensation spread through her thigh followed by a terrible itching. She tore the bandages away and watched in morbid fascination as her flesh reknited.   
  
Soon there was no sign of injury. Jubilee released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and glanced back at Logan's face. His pupils swam back through those glowing pools.   
  
"You...you...healed me. How?"  
  
"There will be time for explanations tomorrow night for I fear morning approaches. I must take my leave of you." Again he found himself drawn to her side and raised his hand to her cheek.   
  
With a feather-like touch he wiped away her forgotten tears. *Sleep little one, I promise you'll be safe* he whispered to her mind. *Sleep*  
  
*****  
  
Morning sounds broke Jubilee out of her very deep sleep. Someone had come in to open all the windows and draw back the curtains. Sunlight streamed through, rays visible in the dust clouds that gently blew around the small room. Jubilee listened for a moment and was greeted by an almost inaudible knock.  
  
"Ma'am, breakfast is awaiting you in the dining room. I've been ordered to escort you."   
  
Before Jubilee could acknowledge, the girl, Paige, swung the open door and shuffled in. She staggered from trying to keep the load of clothing she was carrying from falling to the ground.   
  
It didn't work. Paige yipped as she tripped over the hem of a blood colored gown, dumping the entire pile onto Jubilee's head.  
  
Paige immediately picked herself up and hurried to unbury her charge. Irritated blue eyes started piercingly at her when she removed the last piece.  
  
"Oh! 'Tis sorry I am, mistress. I am forever clumsy!" Paige's face flushed, and she quickly picked up her bundle.  
  
By the time the last piece of offending garment had been removed, Jubilee's irritation melted into kindness. Paige couldn't have been much older, and really, it wasn't her fault.  
  
She grabbed the stuttering girl gently by her arm and helped her pick up the garments and place them all into a neat pile.  
  
Paige was still blushing, but she had changed from beet-red to just a slight pink. "Please forgive my ma'am. I didn't mean to-"  
  
She was cut off abruptly by Jubilee who smiled at her. "It's okay. Truly it is, I understand that accidents happen." She eyed the large bundle of clothes dubiously. "Especially if you have to handle such a large pile of clothing all by yourself."  
  
Jubilee bent down to pick up a beautiful gown of blue silk, at first inspection it seemed light as a feather with its many layers of gossamer silk, but when she picked it up, it nearly weighed a ton!  
  
"Dear gods this thing is heavy!" Jubilee exclaimed. "No wonder you were having such a hard time! If the rest of your burden is THIS heavy then I marvel that you didn't fall sooner!"  
  
Paige blushed somewhat darker than before but she now regarded the other girl warmly with a bright smile. She liked the lady very much for her kind words set her completely at ease, a feeling she had almost forgotten especially when one spent nearly all their time in the presence of a demanding master such as Master Logan.  
  
Jubilee smiled back. Together the two managed to divide the burden, despite Paige's protests that she was fine and could handle it by herself, not to mention the master wouldn't approve since he had sternly ordered her to make sure that the lady remained in bed and get her rest.  
  
Jubilee however was as stubborn as anyone could be and in the end Paige had given in. They ended up chatting away like old friends, neither noticing the flicker of a large shadow nearby.  
  
"Weren't your instructions clear? You were to see if she was resting comfortably and if she felt up to it, escort the Lady Jubilee to breakfast?" A large, blue furred man stepped through the entrance to her room.   
  
Jubilee gasped, eyes huge. Paige turned and fixed him with a stern expression. "And... didn't the master tell YOU to stay out of sight until he was able to introduce you to her. You're scaring her," she retorted.   
  
The beast dropped to all fours to reduce his size. In two short hops he was beside the bed and offered one of his large paws to Jubilee. "My lady, I am Henry McCoy."  
  
As the shock faded and her initial fear passed the absurdness of the sight struck her.  
  
She smiled at him, one brow cocked. "Jubilation Lee." She said and shook his hand. The massive blue paw engulfed her delicate appendage with surprisingly gentile grip.  
  
Logan watched silently, approvingly, from the doorway. Another point marked in her favor. Not many men could look upon The Beast with anything but fear in their hearts and loathing on their minds. Paige, who had been all but raised in his presence, had been the only lady able to handle Hank's frightening visage.  
  
Hank grinned even more broadly. "I welcome you to our humble sanctuary. Allow me to show you around."  
  
Logan came forward. "Allow me this pleasure, Hank. My, Dear would you accompany me on a brief tour?"   
  
Jubilee eyed him for a moment. He was now dressed in a full black linen cloak; it's hood drawn down over his head till it nearly covered his eyes.   
  
"Why the executioner's garb?"  
  
Logan considered for a moment. He really didn't know himself. At full morning he shouldn't be able to walk during the daytime. Power boosts always came unexpectedly as a vampire gains age. He decided truth was best.  
  
"I'm not sure child, but this is the first time in centuries that I'm able to walk during daylight, so will you please get dressed come with me."  
  
Her master's unexpected appearance had stunned her. Paige shook herself and moved to pick out a dress for Jubilee.   
  
Hank smoldered and watched the two girls disappear behind the privy partition. "You may be her master, but not mine."  
  
"Never consider yourself my equal, 'Beast'" Logan hissed.  
  
"I am more than your equal. I am the merging of two supernatural races and what I lack in your ferocity I make up for in intelligence."  
  
Beast was a werewolf who Logan had bitten one night before the full moon had risen. As the moon rose, he had been transformed as never before, due to a vampire's ability to turn into a wolf, rather than a wolfman. And somehow he had become stuck, except on rare unpredictable occasions into the more wolf-like form. He had no where else to go now.  
  
Logan kept him around to ensure he had a supply of emergency, if distasteful, blood, and as a reminder that he needn't to scout his prey before he fed.   
  
Beast called his own power, an electric power that raced through the room and roared over Logan. In a few steps he was toe to toe with the vampire, his large paws opening and closing rapidly. A very low growl trickled through clenched teeth as Hank fought for control.  
  
An angry wind lashed through the room and absorbed Hank's energy. Logan was used to these displays but it seems the Beast never learned. The wind forced Hank back until he stumbled against the bed. In a blur of speed, Logan had locked Hank in a full nelson. Without warning, he sunk fangs into the soft flesh of Beast's throat, his eyes lost to blue fire.   
  
Power flared anew, building in a wide spiral. Abruptly, Logan broke off. It was too much, too addictive. If he had held on any longer, his walking meal ticket would be dead. A gasp from behind quickly brought him back to his senses.   
  
Frozen with fear, Jubilee tried to hold back her scream. She didn't want to bring attention to herself, but the scene before her was too much. Paige had seen this before but was just as scared. This was Master Logan at his worst. She couldn't imagine why he would risk showing it to Jubilee. Then again she was still confused to see him walking during daylight.   
  
"Master, my lady is ready," Paige announced softly. She held the girl's trembling hand and tried to comfort her.   
  
In the meantime Beast had recovered. Already the neat fang holes were closing as he staggered to his feet. "I apologize profusely, my lady. You were not supposed to see our dirty laundry. Perhaps another day we can get better acquainted...hmm." He swept her a deep bow, winked, and bounded out the door.   
  
Jubilee relaxed enough to giggle at the Beast's departure. The heavy blue dress Paige had picked for her dragged the floor by nearly a foot. Careful not to wrinkle the silk she raised the dress and pulled away from Paige.  
  
*I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid* she told herself with each step and approached Logan. In her dreams she had seen him this way, back to her in a full cloak. Jubilee listened to her heart and placed a tentative hand on his arm. He refused to look at her until she reached up, her slender hand catching his chin, forcing him to look at her.   
  
A little bit of blood had dribbled down his chin and now covered her fingers. Jubilee resisted the urge to wipe her hand her gown. Instead she took the hankerchief from the breast pocket of his cloak and gently cleaned his face. Her fear was still there but in this one moment she saw how vulnerable he was. Saw every pain and anguish he'd been through. Fear diminishing rapidly, she promised she would never add to them.  
  
"Didn't you promise me a tour and wasn't there food waiting?" she asked with a small smile.  
  
His entire demeanor changed as if water was being poured from a cup. She saw him rebuild himself into the confident man he was when they first met.   
  
"That I did m'lady, that I did." He bowed slightly and proffered his arm. 


End file.
